


Terminal

by hailait



Category: Beast (Band), K-pop
Genre: M/M, Non-graphic character death, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-21
Updated: 2012-04-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2491958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailait/pseuds/hailait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They told me I'd live, but I died that night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terminal

They told me I was dying. They told me I had one year, tops. They told me not to expect to make it even half that.

I was sick and my time was running out. But I was only seventeen. There was so much I hadn’t done, so many places I hadn’t seen.

And I’d never met anyone that made my heart beat erratically.

I put together a bucket list. I wanted to travel; I wanted to see the world, visit the places I thought I would’ve had a lifetime to visit. I wanted to go skydiving. I wanted to go swimming with sharks. I wanted to go snowboarding. I wanted to dye my hair blond and get a mohawk. I wanted to do everything I'd ever considered doing.

Those things were easy. My family was extremely well-off, and my parents wanted me to be happy. So I quit school and went travelling for a few months. I went with my cousin; I needed someone to make sure I was okay, and he was the only one in my family who had the time. We got along well enough. It was kind of awkward because he didn’t know how to act around me. Nor I him, in all fairness. But we got a little closer after swimming with the sharks, when I laughed and held him tightly while he clung to me, body shaking in fear.

I had nothing to fear; I was just a dead man walking.

I went back to Seoul with ridiculously tanned skin and bleached-blond hair. I stood out and I looked like an idiot, but I was feeling detached from the world so the stares didn’t bother me.

I had crossed everything off my to-do list.

Well, everything but ‘be in love’.

I dyed my hair a light brown and used skin-lightening products and makeup to make myself look paler. I went on a date nearly every day, trying so desperately to find somebody to love.

But you can’t expect people to love you when your expiration date is nearing.

I met him in the rain after yet another failed date. I wandered out into the rain after sitting in the café by myself for an hour. My phone was ringing but I ignored it. I sat down on the curb, not caring how wet I was getting; the rain was making my tears less obvious.

He sat next to me, holding his umbrella over our heads. I glanced over at him, and he smiled softly and introduced himself.

Yoon Doojoon was just about everything I’d ever wanted. I didn’t know how to tell him that I was dying.

He told me first.

He didn’t seem like the ‘type’. If you could call it that. He didn’t seem sick or weak. He didn’t have mood swings. I guess he could tell I was sick too, because he was always there, always reassuring me.

It took me two weeks after meeting him to tell him.

“I know,” was all he said as he hugged me tightly.

Well, that and “I love you.” But he said that so softly that I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to hear it.

He told me again that night, when he crawled into my bed for the first time and held me, his hand smoothing my hair which was mostly back to normal.

I’d gotten over the fact that I was dying, but it got harder and harder for me to accept Doojoon’s death as we got closer and closer.

I cried after the first time we made love. Not because of the sex, but because I was so scared of losing him right then. I didn’t want either of us to die; I needed to be with him forever. I needed to be able to hold him and kiss him and breathe in his scent and tell him I love him.

That was around the end of my fourth month.

I spent nearly every second of the next month with him. I moved into his apartment. If one of us had to go to the hospital, we both went. I couldn’t bear to be away from him.

I could only hope that he didn’t want to be away from me either.

He had to go to the hospital when I was sleeping once and he didn’t want to wake me, so he left me behind. I went up to the roof of his apartment building when I woke up and waited until he came back. I poured my heart out to him from six stories up as he stood on the sidewalk, his head tilted back so he could see me, his huge grin just barely visible.

I told him I loved him as much as I could. I was clingy as all hell, but I truly couldn’t help myself. I was so scared one of us would die if we weren’t together. I felt like he kept me alive.

He was my life support.

He died about halfway through the seventh month.

He passed out while we were in the hospital; I had to go get some tests done, and the doctors told me that I seemed to be getting better. They told me there was a ninety percent chance I’d live to at least see my fiftieth birthday. I was as surprised as they were. Whether they’d been wrong before or it was some kind of miracle, I wasn’t going to die.

Doojoon seemed weak when he stood to hug me. I watched as he wavered, then collapsed on the floor.

I thought he was just not feeling well, but he died after a few hours in the ICU.

They told me I’d live, but I died that night


End file.
